Shoulda Left My Phone at Home
by kusch
Summary: Conrad gets a phone call at an awkward time.  Worth enjoys making him miserable.  Shenanigans.   oneshot, conworth slash, T for language


**[disclaimer: I am definitely not Tessa Stone. just havin' some fun with her characters!  
****if you notice any typos, please let me know in the reviews. thank you!]**

"Oh, shit, hang on. I've got to take this one."

Worth spun very slowly around in his office chair. His eyebrows were raised almost comically as Conrad fumbled with his iPhone across the desk.

"Connie," he began to chastise, "you're not _really_ gonna answer your phone in the middle of an appointment, are ya?" His lips curled into a grin at the dead stare he got in return. "'S just bad manners. Nice ringtone."

"Thanks. Imogen Heap," Conrad replied flatly. "And this is far from what I'd call an 'appointment.'" Even if they did occur at about the same time on about the same day of every week. He put the phone to his ear to answer the call, turned, and started for Worth's office door. A kind-of-repulsive noise from the back of Worth's throat made him stop moving.

"Connie, you're not _really_ gonna just walk out in the middle of an appointment, are ya?"

Conrad looked back over his shoulder to glare imaginary daggers. As Worth's chair creakily revolved back to face him, the doctor's earlier smirk was morphing into a Cheshire smile. The word 'sinister' did not even begin to cover this. Worth waved him on as if letting him pass by a toll booth.

He forced off a shudder of dread and directed his attention back to the call, because there was now a slightly shrill older woman's voice in his ear and he could tell this was going to be rough.

"Mom?" he began, very hesitant, and just as he feared, Worth began to laugh. It was more like snarling coyote puppy laughter and it was really unnerving. "I might need to call you ba—"

Worth sat on his knees to lean over the desk, shoulders hunched, and was positively _leering with fiendish glee_ at Conrad. How old was he, anyway, because that position was way too young for him and he hadn't been this energetic a moment ago. "Ooh oh! It's mummy? Hand over the phone, Snow White, I needa introduce m'self –"

"You don't even know how to work an iPhone," Conrad spat, with his hand over the receiving end. Worth was saying something like 'a phone's a damn phone, give it here' when the darker haired man's frown grew a little deeper. He strained to hear what his mother was saying for a moment, then his facial expression began to look a little more frantic. He stole a couple of glances at Worth. "Who? No, I – that's nobody. I don't know who that is. I …"

Worth looked like he could barely contain himself, at this point.

"I'm at a party and people are just getting a little wild. That's all. … Yeah, I know it's only six-thirty." His neck and ears definitely would have been burning if they could. There was another hardly-stifled laugh from across the office. "It's, um. It's a work party."

Here Worth decided that he was no longer going to be patient and swung his long matchstick legs over the desk. "Nope! That one's not gonna work, Connie. You don't have any work friends." He was being deliberately loud, it was obvious, and sauntering way too near to the phone. Conrad shrank toward the door again, trying to protect Jasper (that was the iPhone, named after Johns but due for a change because y'know) from prying hands that had been who knows where. Jesus, that man would leave hideous fingerprints, too.

"Would you _back off?_ -Don't worry, Mom, it's a – like an artist party or something okay. Look, that's why I have to call you back. I just really can't talk right now, I seriously can't."

"If he won't talk t'you, I will, Mum," Worth half-shouted, and the look Conrad gave him during the beat afterward said very clearly _'you wouldn't fucking dare.'_ But he fucking would, judging by the essence of pure evil visible in his expression, and by how quickly his arms shot out for the phone again. It was no problem for Worth to reach over Conrad's shoulders as the shorter man fumbled with the door handle (why oh why did he even feel the need to lock it beforehand); he easily plucked the device from his free hand and turned away.

Conrad's previous life flashed before his eyes.

There was some truth to the earlier statement that Worth had no idea how to use an iPhone. He took a moment to stare at the screen and contemplate how to execute his next plan of attack, which was, undoubtedly, to put it on speaker. Instead of shouting "just touch it, fucktard" like he had half the mind to do, Conrad decided it was time to beg. The idea made him cringe in his Urban Outfitters sweater but presently he could tell that his mother was asking a lot of heated questions, and he could hear the tone of her voice.

"You don't know what you're doing," he hissed sotto voce to Worth's back. "Don't say a word! Anything you would say to her would make her burst a blood vessel to her brain – just hearing your _voice_ oh my God – just give it back to me and –"

He was cut off by a small cackle of triumph. Okay, so Worth obviously hadn't been listening at all. Had he even really expected him to.

Worth pressed the speaker button. "'llo, Mum."

Conrad was kind of stunned. Worth took a leisurely step back toward him but held the phone just out of reach. Stupid tall jerk.

"Conrad?" she asked, voice lightly accented and heavily suspicious. "Who is this man? Why is he calling me 'mum?' Is he one of your artist friends?"

Stun mode was over. "No!" he nearly shrieked, lunging up for the phone to no avail. Worth used his right arm to bar Conrad across the chest.

"Why not?" Worth chimed in, sounding just _so_ incredulous. "We're good friends, aren't we, peaches?" Peaches saw where this was going and began to protest loudly as the older man continued.

"I swear he's just a doctor, Mom –"

"I know y'son quite well, miss. We're right mates."

"I don't even know why he's talking to you because this is–"

"Friends with benefits, even." A beat. "Very certain kinds of benefits."

The implication lingered in the air between them, over the phone static, and in a moment of frozen panic Conrad wondered how far the man was going to take this. There was the standard meaning of the term, and then there was, well, their system, their 'very certain kind' of system. He was nowhere near ready to explain this to his mother, of course, of all people – especially how it started.

But the silence lengthened. Worth, still wearing that crooked smile, left it at that, and almost earned himself a thank-you. Too bad he still didn't deserve one right now.

The hand currently holding him back began to trail lightly down Conrad's chest (no worries about him trying for the phone again, the vamp was too mortified to move) as Worth tilted his head to regard him. The stricken look on Conrad's face was enough to warrant a snicker that probably sounded to Ms. Achenleck like a fond chuckle. A fond chuckle from Worth was completely different than a fond chuckle from anyone else on the planet, give or take a few serial murderers, perhaps.

"Conrad?" his mother began again after a moment, but didn't say anything else. Probably couldn't think of where to start this time.

Conrad nearly groaned, but Worth's hand was making its way back up, fingertips grazing from his hipbone to mid-torso and taking the bottom of his shirt with it. The sound he made turned into more of a wince. He had forgotten not to breathe; his lungs and throat felt painfully tight and he couldn't tell if it was because of Worth assholery, the contact or his mother.

There were two courses of action laid out in his mind.

He could admit it was true (because it sure as hell was), shock her and hurt her, and never speak to her again. Alright, he already knew he wasn't going to do that. He wasn't sure if it was the friend or the benefits that would horrify her the most, but she'd definitely send him to an asylum either way. That was something he wouldn't mind waiting on. Just, if not now – when?

Alternatively: he could deny it, tell her the man was intoxicated and didn't know what he was saying. Simple solution with no heartache on her part. But that would be …

"Whatever," he mumbled almost to himself, and held out his hand palm-up.

He'd lied to her before and he could do it again.

"Jus' thought I ought to introduce m'self, ma'am," Worth said amicably, and dropped the phone into Conrad's grasp. He withdrew his roaming hand with a little pinch of flesh – an action that normally would have made Conrad shiver, damn it he was tender there – and half-skipped back over to his desk. The damage was done, after all, and his attention span was probably running low.

Conrad pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled. He didn't even bother to take the phone off of speaker as he told her quickly, "He's just a doctor, Mom. He's drunk and thought he'd mess around. Not a therapist," he added, predicting her next question. "I'll explain later goodbye."

The silence that hung in the office after he ended the call didn't last very long.

"She seems a nice enough lady. Can't see why you wouldn't feel like talkin' to her."

Conrad massaged his temples. Worth rummaged around in the desk drawers for something. A few more seconds passed. Worth began humming something unrecognizable.

"Why would you do that?" Conrad managed to ask, a little sadly.

Where he had expected an immediate snarky retort, there was nothing, so Conrad looked back over at Worth. The doctor's sneer was gone. He had pulled a lighter from a drawer, apparently, and was putting it to use. He started walking across the room and stopped behind Conrad to take the first drag of his cigarette.

"I just don't see the point in keepin' secrets."

Conrad watched him move past him over to the door and jiggle the door handle. Still locked. He turned to face him again. Their eyes met for a moment but Conrad couldn't hold the gaze.

Another small laugh, but this one was different. Conrad was pretty sick of him being so amused. But it sounded normal, less tense, and helped loosen his shoulders just a little.

"Well now, mama's boy," stupid tall jerk said, louder, leaning his back against the door and inclining his head, "didn't we have some business to attend to?"


End file.
